The Finer Things in Life Cost
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: "There's no need. I just wanted to get a better look at you," Mrs Lethaby spoke liltingly, almost playfully and Sarah had the distinct feeling that there was a game afoot and it was her turn. "I do hope you're settling in well?" - Tipping the Velvet/Downton Abbey crossover.


**Pairing: **Sarah O'Brien (Downton Abbey)/Diana Lethaby (Tipping the Velvet)

**Warnings: **Anyone who's read/seen _Tipping the Velvet_ will know the sort of woman Diana is and so can guess what will turn up, but for others, lots and lots of sex, abuse, cigarettes, voyeurism, bondage, language, excessive smirking, psychological torment, prowling and Anna Chancellor. Poor Sarah, she had no chance.

**A/N:** In _Tipping the Velvet _Diana was 40 in about 1882/3 and going by my head canon Sarah would be approaching 50 in 1920, meaning that when she was 20 in 1890 Diana would have been just into her 50s and this means they are of appropriate sexin' age! If I'm wrong then fuck it its AU anyway. And this did begin life as a short drabble…yeah, that got a bit away from me.

* * *

**The Finer Things in Life (Cost)**

**_Part One._  
**

Sarah O'Brien slipped to the upper floors of Grosvenor Square after her first day as a senior housemaid, pleased with herself beyond all reason for finding a place this good in a house like this at her age and she was in glorious high spirits. She was so fresh from home that she swore she could still smell the country air if she breathed deeply enough but it wasn't like she'd never been away from home before – just never away from Lancashire – and without that familiar air she was beginning to feel quite different; there was something heady about London that was like nothing she had ever felt before.

Excitement coursed through her as she ignored the goodnights from the two _junior _housemaids and closed her door firmly behind her. _Her_ door! The thought made her smile to herself and when the cool wood was securely in its frame she leant back against it with the sigh of contentment: no more sharing with another girl and having cold feet and the smell of an unwashed body assaulting her senses all through the night. Christ, if she'd wanted to be treated to nonsense like that every night she'd have married one of the lads from back home and at least got the odd jump out of it for her trouble!

No, this house was a much better prospect and she removed her dress as she ran over the reasons once again as to why this was a wonderful place to be. It wasn't like she needed telling but she'd had to repeat them to her family a thousand times before they'd stopped disapproving of her decision and had realised that there was life to be had outside Scouthead and a great deal of it.

One. It was London. If she buggered up – and she bloody well wouldn't because how hard was it to be a _house_maid? – then there were plenty of other opportunities.

Two. She didn't have the stigma of everyone knowing her dad or brothers. Part of the problem of having a big family was that there was always someone who'd been to school with one of them, or been a sweetheart of one of her daft little siblings and if she heard one more time that she looked just like her father then she was going to scream.

Three. She'd be out of this house in no time anyway because her employer might have been nice but as far as Sarah could tell she had no interest in a personal lady's maid and any sort of woman that didn't want a lady's maid of her own when she was entitled to one just wasn't worth bothering with.

Then again…she hung her dress up carefully and smoothed out the creases for tomorrow, tying her cap around the little hanger to keep it in place, before closing the wardrobe firmly. Mrs Lethaby wasn't really a _bad_ woman and she had been well turned out during their interview and had looked just the same today. Granted she hadn't seen much of Mrs Lethaby, apart from a brief glimpse this morning of dark hair and a deep mauve dress, but what she had seen was a very well put together woman indeed who had assessed her briefly in the hallway with an unreadable expression, muttered something to her Housekeeper, before leaving for the day and Sarah had not seen her since. She wasn't important enough to be told the schedule for the day yet but Sarah was determined that soon enough she would be.

Unlacing her corsets and removing them, along with the other, less constrictive, articles of her clothing Sarah dragged the nightgown over her head and felt the soft fabric brush her skin wonderfully. She liked doing a good job but hell if she wasn't bloody exhausted and ready for her bed. The bed that she got all to herself!

With a grin she reached up to pull the pins none too gently from her hair and, tossing them haphazardly onto the table, she all but skipped towards her bed and slipped beneath the sheets with a grateful sigh. They were clean and freshly laundered and she practically sank into the wonderfully comfortable expanse of the whole thing. Compared with the bed she'd had at home, and the ones she shared, this was practically the height of luxury and Sarah thought it was no less than she was entitled too quite frankly. What was life if not an opportunity to seek out and enjoy the finer things?

Drowsiness was overcoming her slowly when she heard the click of the door. For a moment she thought she must be imagining it – hadn't she _locked_ it? – because the housekeeper had already said her good nights downstairs and could have no reason for needing to see her again surely? She kept her eye closed as much as possible but allowed one of them to open a tiny friction, trying to see through blurriness and eyelashes who'd come into her room. All she could make out was a tall figure, dressed in black and were it not for the candle still burning next to her she might have jumped with fear at the looming spectre.

"Goodness child you'll hurt your eyes if you persist in doing that."

With blushing cheeks Sarah opened her eyes, thinking defiantly that there was no need for her to feel chastised: even if this was Mrs Lethaby's house she was still very strange to be creeping into her servant's rooms at this time of the night! She sat up in her bed all the same and pulled the covers a fraction away from her, making the silent offer to get up.

"There's no need. I just wanted to get a better look at you," Mrs Lethaby spoke liltingly, almost playfully and Sarah had the distinct feeling that there was a game afoot and it was her turn. "I do hope you're settling in well?"

"Very well, thank you Ma'am... I've-"

"I'm-"

They spoke at the same time and both stopped, the older woman with a light laugh and Sarah with another blush. She lowered her head, not quite meeting her employer's eyes and instead focussing upon the things the long, spindly fingers were holding.

"Sorry Ma'am."

"Don't apologise. If you ever do anything you need to apologise for I'll let you know," she perched on the edge of Sarah's bed and for one mad moment Sarah thought there must have been a mistake and she'd been sent to the wrong bedroom, but this room was just _nice_, it still wasn't what you'd have if you had the choice was it? "What were you going to say?"

Sarah didn't answer immediately and instead watched, mesmerised, as Mrs Lethaby settled her cargo into her lap and began to roll a cigarette. The tobacco crumbled from her fingers, burnt pieces with a heady aroma falling onto the pink paper before they were rolled and Sarah didn't realise until her new mistress raised her eyebrow that she had been staring. The older woman smirked and licked her lips, bringing the paper up to make it wet with a quick stroke of her tongue before finishing her task.

"I…I was goin' to say thank you, because I've never 'ad a nice room like this to myself before you see?"

Mrs Lethaby placed the cigarette between her lips and nodded casually, reaching with a silent demand for the candle on Sarah's bedside table and Sarah immediately picked it up and held it out to light the tip of the paper. As she replaced her source of light Mrs Lethaby removed the cigarette with a flourish and smiled guardedly, blowing a great puff of smoke out of the corner of her mouth.

"I like my girls to be comfortable."

Sarah smiled at that, unable to see what was wrong with it despite there being a distinct feeling in her stomach that there was something she wasn't quite grasping. She'd always prided herself on being intelligent – how else would she be advancing so quickly up the ranks? – but something in Mrs Lethaby's tone quiet confounded her and she shifted on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest and keeping the covers firmly under her armpits.

"It's not that I _mind_ sharing, but it's nice for a change," Mrs Lethaby merely smiled back at her and took another drag of her cigarette, somehow holding it in a much more fashionable way than Sarah had ever seen her parents, or brothers, or boyfriends doing. She laughed carefully, nervously. "I don't think the other two like that I've only been here a day and get this and they still have to share."

The taller woman responded with a low laugh, breathing smoke out again as she did and extending her bare arm from the voluminous sleeve of her crimson dressing gown to place the cigarette carefully between Sarah's lips. She left it there and curled her fingers close to Sarah's hair, possessively almost and like a cat would when it was sheathing its claws and brought her hand back to her own lap with a curiously contemplative sigh, gathering up her smoking paraphernalia.

"I said I like my girls to be comfortable," she stood and reached down and Sarah thought she was going to take her cigarette back but instead she brushed the back of her curled index finger across Sarah's cheek. "I didn't say _they_ were my girls did I?"

Mrs Lethaby smiled again, the rumble of laughter that didn't quite express itself in sound being all too present in her eyes and the curve of her lips. Sarah knew she was being laughed at but, like everything else about this encounter, she felt as though the explanation was just out of her reach.

"No Ma'am, but I-"

"Shhh, not now. You enjoy that – the tobacco's more expensive than anything you'll have smoked before so be wary – and come and see me tomorrow morning. I'll let Mrs Sharp know."

She sauntered slowly out of the room, closing the door behind her and Sarah heard the click of the lock turning from the outside and knew that there was at least one more key in this house. The cigarette smouldered in her lips and Sarah inhaled the sweet tasting smoke that made her giddy from a single puff with relish, leaning back against her headboard and rolling the expensive cigarette around her already work-hardened fingers as she smoked it.

* * *

By the light of day Mrs Lethaby _looked_ quite different although the demeanour of the circling, prowling woman she had encountered on her first night was still simmering beneath the surface at all times and Sarah surprised herself with how quickly she had grown used to the odd feeling. Sat in her study at eleven o'clock in the morning, with an empty space set aside on the mahogany table next to her chaise Mrs Lethaby looked just the same as every woman of her class and wealth that Sarah had ever seen, with the crucial difference being the smile she gave her maid every time she brought the tea tray and closed the door behind her.

"You're early today Sarah."

Sarah smiled to herself, widening her eyes as though she had been caught out misbehaving and glanced towards the clock that was in her mistress's line of sight on the pretence that she didn't know precisely what time it was.

"Would you prefer me to come back?"

She still wasn't quite convinced this was the game that Mrs Lethaby had instigated on Sarah's first night two weeks ago but with each passing day she felt like she was getting closer to understanding. The other maids had done little but glare at her and Sarah didn't care, preferring to revel in the pleasure that Mrs Lethaby had said _she_ was her girl, and whatever it was that meant it surely couldn't be that bad a thing?

Long fingers tapped the empty table expectantly and Sarah thought, as she did every morning, that candlelight was a great deal more forgiving to Mrs Lethaby than the harsh light of day was. That wasn't to say her mistress was an unattractive woman – far from it in fact, if you were a bloke and a bit older she supposed – but she'd seen paintings around the house and could discern easily enough that in her prime Diana Lethaby had been an exceptionally handsome woman.

"No need. Set it down and pour me a cup."

If Mrs Lethaby had a lady's maid then this would be her job, Sarah thought as she did as she was bid, and she wondered, not for the first time, whether she should look upon this experience as a means of learning. If she learnt all the _skills_ of being a lady's maid, even if she didn't have any experience, then she could soon get a post with a woman who wasn't that fussy and work her way up from there. It wasn't that she _disliked_ being a housemaid, and not when her duties here were so agreeable at any rate, but there was no harm in looking out for the next opportunity was there?

She did as she was bid, making sure to add the right amount of sugar and milk before fitting the cigarette into the little holder that Mrs Lethaby always used in the mornings. Sarah had watched her in the evenings, looking like an Egyptian Queen in front of her fireplace with the smoke surrounding her and draped with silken blankets, but in the morning she at least maintained some appearance of normal respectability and didn't act like a memsahib. Sarah couldn't help but like her a great deal more in the evenings when the aroma of dying perfume and expensive wine filled the study.

"You're looking very lively this morning my dear," her mistress smirked at her as she inclined her head so Sarah could light her cigarette for her, leaning forwards across the table with a match that made blue eyes glitter all the more with amusement. "Is there anything I should be told?"

Sarah blew out the match slowly, inhaling deeply the mix of the odd cigarette she had been craving since that first one she'd been given and the smell of the odd tea from Harrods in the teapot, and contemplated whether she _could_ tell her employer what had her in such a good mood. It was hardly inappropriate after all and she hadn't done anything wrong and it wasn't like she could lose her job over it was it? It'd be a fine thing for her to be scuppered in her ambition before she'd even bloody well started!

"It's my brother ma'am, he's getting married an' e's written to invite me to the wedding."

Mrs Lethaby tilted her head to the side contemplatively and furrowed her brow in the same manner that gave Sarah the impression that there was only one acceptable answer to the question she was about to pose. She congratulated herself on having learnt another of her mysterious employer's facial expression – the more she learnt, the more she could read her mistress, the better maid she would be and once she got the knack she'd be off and straight up the ladder and no mistake.

"And are you planning to attend?"

"I…I'd like to ma'am, but I'll understand if I've not been 'ere long enough to get favours like that."

Mrs Lethaby's eyebrow raised and for a split second Sarah was sure she'd said the wrong thing, however, the familiar grin appeared and she could just about make out the lingering stains from her first sip of tea in the creases of her lips before they were covered by the end of the cigarette holder.

"I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. Here," her mistress handed her the paper that had been placed idle in her lap when the maid arrived and pulled off the circular, wired spectacles that Sarah had learned she loathed. "Read me the society pages."

Sarah stared a bit aimlessly for a moment before she sprung to life and started skimming through the paper, marvelling at the lack of ink coming off on her fingers and for the first time realising the advantages of the footman's early morning task.

"At the back."

"Thank you."

"You can sit down if you like," Mrs Lethaby close her eyes and relaxed back against her chair with a luxurious drag of her cigarette.

"Thank you ma'am…" She looked around in search of somewhere and eventually, when she was waved to do so, perched on the end of the chaise-lounge, with her thigh pressed against her lady's calf.

* * *

One week later she discovers what the arrangement will entail and to say she is a bit surprised would be an understatement. Contrary to what her Mother seems convinced of and what was written on the odd school desk, she had always been a very well-behaved girl and had never indulged in anything of _that_ sort with anyone!

There had been a few boys who'd tried to have a grab at her chest, and even one she'd thought about letting before the fog of that particular schoolgirl crush has faded away, but she'd been a great deal more defensive of her virtue than a lot of the other girls and eventually the boys had grown bored of bothering with her. She hadn't been especially perturbed and from then till now she hadn't been bothered in that respect despite being half-convinced by another girl she'd been a housemaid with before that the master of the house was prowling the female corridor for the new girls.

But she hadn't expected to be cornered on her way up to bed one night by the lady of the house, who hadn't even bothered to think of an excuse for why she was in that part of the house this time and after Sarah's question had pushed her against the wall none-too-gently and pressed their lips together. She'd been winded by the sudden ache in her back and squeaked in surprise but hadn't fought against the much taller woman with any _great_ conviction and eventually her mistress had gotten the message that she was a bit taken aback.

"Oh good grief," there was more laughter in the words whispered against her immobile lips than she had heard thus far. "You really are a virgin aren't you?"

Sarah had let her half-swollen lips fall open at the question and was not even been able to nod her head as she desperately wanted to. She wasn't sure why she was so desperate to push that particular point home but it felt very important at the moment and she stammered out a "Yes" before her mouth completely dried up. Mrs Lethaby, as Sarah had more or less expected, laughed throatily and leaned her arms casually against the wall, pinning her maid neatly against her body.

"I wasn't sure you see? I thought it might just be coyness…you wouldn't be the first to employ that tactic after all but no, you really are too good to be true aren't you?"

Sarah tried to wriggle free as the fear of the unknown grew within her with twice as much vigour as it ever had when any of the boys had tried something like this but her struggling was to no avail; she realised suddenly that she could escape rather facetiously by ducking underneath her lady's long arms and with a squeak she did so. Sometime being short did have its advantage and she scurried back to her room, glad not to hear footsteps behind her but looking over her shoulder all the same. She _was_ being followed as it happened and with every escaping step she took on her way back to her bedroom Sarah knew that she was no safer there. Hers was not the only key after all.

The footsteps outside her door lingered for a little while and Sarah leant against the wood with desperate breaths, fully aware that if she could hear her mistress' breathing then the older woman could hear her much more ragged breaths too. Mrs Lethaby's remained constant and present on the other side of the door and Sarah felt her heart race and her cheeks blush with the tension palpable in the air and she leant her weight against it with the faint hope that it would be enough.

The long moments dragged by and Sarah looked around the room for another escape, finding no obvious one and very nearly consigning herself to the inevitable then and there. Whatever that would entail. Eventually the breathing subsided and footsteps carried Mars Lethaby away and though she wasn't bothered that night she was left with no illusions that her virtue may not be her own for too much longer.

When she finally plucked up the courage to enter the drawing room the following morning she got an unexpectedly frosty reception. The small part of her that allowed herself to be swept up by sensational novels was half-convinced Mrs Lethaby would be hiding behind the door with a net to catch her.

"Ma'am-"

"Don't bother Sarah. I am not an unreasonable woman and you won't lose your position. We'll say no more."

And that is all she gets, apart from the dismissal from the room, and all she can expect for the foreseeable future. She wouldn't have thought that the loss of being called _dear_ or being asked to sit down would bother her as much as it did, but when she finally reached her room that night, bone tired from the number of stupid jobs the housekeeper had found to busy her with, she felt a few tears clouding her eyes traitorously.

Maybe all Mrs Lethaby wanted was to kiss her in the hallways?

Sarah rolled her eyes at her own suggestion and moved the chair in front of the door as she had done last night, wedging the wood underneath the handle as best she could, and started the now perilous task of getting undressed. Her body had never bothered her a great deal – after turning away the boys it had seemed unsporting to enjoy it too much herself – but as she peeled each layer away she became more aware than ever of the curve of her own breasts. Watching herself in the mirror they fascinated her, the swell from underneath that was topped off with a dark coloured nipple that she _knew_ the actual reason for but some dark instinct told her there was a greater purpose for. She brought a hand up to gently cup her breast, palming it delicately and squeezing gently until she could feel the response of the nub under her flesh; she rubbed her hand in a circular motion and took in a gasp of breath at the feeling. It wasn't too much and she was sure she must be doing something wrong but that had felt rather nice hadn't it? And wasn't that, in its littlest form, what her employer wanted from her?

Perhaps it was something she could cope with?

She stripped off the rest of her clothes, running her hand eagerly over the curve of her hip and down the soft skin of her legs. Her mother used to bang on about how she should enjoy this youthful beauty while she could – with an unsubtle hint that she should use it to get married and start providing grandchildren – and perhaps her ma was right? Mrs Lethaby seemed to know what she wanted and Sarah, though not completely sure of the ins and outs, was not so fresh that she didn't at least know what someone unscrupulous _might_ want with a girl of twenty in their bed.

She pulled her nightgown over her head and the dressing gown over that, leaving her feet bare and reaching up to unpin her hair carefully, letting the long strands fall about her shoulders. Her hair always looked better at this time of night, after a day of it being pinned up had given curled definition to the usually straight strands and with her eyes dark in the light Sarah thought she looked rather appealing in the mirror at least. She took a deep breath and sat on her bed, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do next.

Was it really worth giving herself over to someone just for the sake of earning their affection? She'd loved being the favourite – for the first time in her life it was _her_ and not one of her innumerable siblings – and it wasn't as though Mrs Lethaby could get her into trouble was it? True she'd never heard of women taking other women to their beds and had no idea what one was supposed to do but her mistress seemed to know and seemed very eager that she should know too. She got to her feet, shaking all over but determined that she wouldn't spend another night being scared, nor another day being ignored.

Leaving the relative safety of her bedroom was easy enough and Sarah surprised herself by managing the walk through the house without growing so nervous that she turned back. She had a feeling that if she'd encountered anyone at all on her short journey she might not have been quite so brave and by the time she was outside the bedroom she had never been in at the same time as its occupant she was trembling but managed to reach her hand up and rap gently on the wooden frame.

There was no response and she tried again. Nothing.

She felt a fool. Had Mrs Lethaby led her along this path only to drop her at the first sign of her acquiesce? Why then had she been so sharp this morning?

Throwing caution to the wind – if Mrs Lethaby _wasn't_ in the room then there would be no harm done – she opened the door and slipped inside.

She had clearly been expected and Mrs Lethaby was reposing on her chaise-lounge by the fire in her out of fashion but very becoming crimson dressing gown, finishing one cigarette and placing it with a twin in the ashtray at her side. Sarah understood the implication immediately: her lady had not waited long for her and had anticipated her arrival almost to the minute.

"Mrs Lethaby-"

"Diana," she slunk to her feet, long legs lapping over each other as they took torturous steps towards her but Sarah refused to back down and wasn't too surprised when the snaking hand didn't touch her and instead pushed the door closed over her head. "When we're alone you may call me by my name."

Soft lips were on hers and making her whole body feel weak as they prised them apart to sweep a knowing tongue against hers rather suddenly. It was quicker than it had been in the hallway before and Diana tasted of smoke and wine to the point that it was almost unpleasant but Sarah was not foolish enough to think that it was something she would be able to say out loud. She was only going to be able to refuse once.

"What do you want me to do?"

Diana laughed, higher and colder than Sarah had ever heard and she felt a chill run down her back that mixed in with something deep inside her stomach she had never felt before but desperately wanted to understand. The taller woman wrapped both arms around her shoulders and she all but assaulted her mouth again and Sarah soon found herself on her back, on the bed, with her nightdress coming terrifyingly up.

"You'll soon learn."

* * *

The first time hadn't been quite as devastating as Sarah had been told it would be. Some of the other girls back home had tried to tell her horror stories about torrents of blood but there'd been specs at most and she'd barely felt the pain when the absolute pleasure on _Diana's _face had been all too obvious. She'd bitten her lip to stop herself crying out, and then Diana had bitten it for her and as her mistress was stingy with neither cigarettes nor pleasure she'd indulged her new lover with her tongue before she'd defiled her with long, searching fingers.

Sarah preened as she thought of the word – _lover_, she rolled around her tongue silently – and stood a little straighter in front of the mirror as the seamstress moved around her. She had never been fitted for clothes before – not properly at least and not by anyone who wasn't related by blood or married to one of her brothers – and these promised to be finer than anything she had ever possessed in her life.

Diana had insisted upon treating her as they passed the dressmakers on a morning walk and, though it had taken her a good fifteen minutes to stop blushing, Sarah had picked out a fairly simple dress only to have it discarded. Something prettier was called for apparently and nothing with a remotely masculine cut. It was a shame really, she thought as she looked longingly at the rather sharp looking waistcoat on the side-table waiting to be unpicked for another girl, but Diana had already given her one pointed look so she met her mistress' eye instead and smiled.

"You'll be the best heeled housemaid in Belgravia my dear."

Sarah smiled back as she turned her head to follow the circling woman, not wanting to move her body less she get a stab with a pin for her trouble from the dressmaker again. Diana was looking particularly resplendent in turquoise that was almost shimmery in the daylight and were she looking from an outside perspective then Sarah would think she looked like an overgrown grasshopper; instead she thought about the body that was underneath the satin and prayed that whatever dress she was getting it was at least going to be in a less ostentatious colour.

Under her clothes Diana was softer than Sarah had thought she would be – not that she'd given a staggering amount of thought to it before – but she hadn't dressed Diana before. In retrospect she'd wondered if her being kept away from the bedroom at night times had been borne from embarrassment on Diana's part but she didn't think her mistress was capable of such emotions and she certainly didn't fool herself into thinking that she was important enough to warrant such a response. Sarah put the previous avoidance down to indifference and soon forgot more or less everything about the way Diana had treated her before.

Through the night Diana lavished attention on her. Lips forever pressed against something or other and muttering that she was built for pleasure but try as she might Sarah couldn't find the meaning in her words. She was younger than Diana, there was no doubt about it when their bodies were so pressed together and the firmness of her own flesh betrayed the lack of it in Diana's, but there was nothing otherwise special about her body. She supposed the wide hips and breasts were the sort of things men liked but Diana was hardly looking to breed with her was she! And, as she'd discovered, there was a lot of pleasure to be garnered from returning the favour and testing her newly acquired skills on a longer, leaner body.

There was nothing lacking in the nights they spent together and Sarah watched her mistress' movements with careful eyes, following her body with eager eyes until she was caught staring. Diana stared at her curiously from the corner of the room with the smirk of a woman who, in her own mind, was continuously licking cream off her lips and Sarah promised herself she would never be out of favour again.

* * *

**_R&R - Part two coming soon. _**


End file.
